Page 54 of The Song of Sunrise (The Prentice Teller #1)

The Breaking of the World

“ Y ou are becoming a force with your staff!” Ramona says as we leave our room the next evening to meet up with some of the rest of our classmates at Anita’s in town.

After my life-altering night with Atlys, I was surprised to find that my day was rather normal, starting off with Intro, then Elementation, lunch, then Battlefield in the afternoon.

World History seems to be the only course that I can easily succeed in.

The rest of my classes I have been working ruthlessly for, though I pretend otherwise.

I’ve found that as someone who is frequently underestimated, I can turn that perceived weakness into a strength.

“No one could get within five feet of you,” Ramona says.

“That’s sort of the whole point.”

“True,” she chuckles.

We stride down the main steps of the castle into crisp evening air and turn down the familiar wooden paths to Olwythion.

As we walk, I have one of those moments where I’m struck with utter…

peace. Everything about being at this Academy has been challenging, but worthwhile.

The calluses on my palms are proof of my dedication to my new craft.

Sometimes I miss the simplicity of Goldenpine, working at the Rose & Raven and mentoring with Marrow, but even now, all of those skills learned from my time there have helped me to flourish here.

All of my cleaning experience has served me well with Professor Novak’s month of chores.

I almost enjoy it. Plus, being able to befriend the cafeteria and cleaning staff has its perks.

Leaf in particular seems to have no problem utilizing my new found relationships with Tegrat, the facilities manager, and his cleaning staff, pressuring him to share all the secret passageways in the castle.

So far, he has been able to successfully coax out the details of three separate pathways, one from the courtyard to the Lower Fields and another from near the first-level Nature Studies classroom to the library on the other side of the castle.

Both have been helpful if we are late to Battlefield or just need to cut to the library between classes, but the most useful passages are the dim aisles that run parallel with the main hallways.

Occasional paintings or cracks in the wall offer insights into the most interesting conversations as cadets lean in and whisper amongst one another, sharing secrets, among other things.

It’s amazing what people will say when they think they are not being overheard.

This was how Ramona overheard the Jord team discussing the date of the third task. Next week right after the Stone Ceremony, when all Cadets will be officially granted their stones, assuming finals are successfully passed.

“Gods. I wish I was still in the Summit. At least I made it farther than old Uncle Nero. My dad used to pick on him every winter solstice when the family got together about how the largest second-stone Watcher was bested by his brother and a classmate. My dad only made it to the first round of the final task, but Lark? He made it to the end two Summits ago.”

My stomach drops. That name, Lark, sounds so familiar, despite me not knowing him.

Could he have known the Watchers from my visions?

Ramona’s father and uncle had to be at the Watch around the same time.

But as a Starwatcher wouldn’t—suddenly, it clicks—these aren’t visions, but memories!

“Lark, you said? Did your dad ever talk about a Bennidix?”

Ramona thinks for a few moments as we trudge through the muddy path toward Olwythion. “Hmm, that sounds familiar, but nothing is striking a chord. I can ask my dad for you.”

“Thanks, I’ll think about it.”

She looks at me, assessing and curious.

“Just researching past Summits, comparing tasks, students, you know…. Research.” What a poor excuse, but my obsession with constantly reading and researching seems to cover the lie well enough.

“Akemi, what aren’t you telling me?” Ramona probes, and I crack easily.

“I think I’ve seen Lark before.” Her eyebrows shoot upward in shock. “Not like that. But in… a memory. I think without really knowing it, I was tapping into my Starwatcher abilities. Twice now, I’ve seen visions of Lark and another boy, Bennidix.”

“What were the memories of?”

I pull a branch out of our way as the ground hardens into the cobblestone path at the edge of Olwythion’s main streets.

“I think they were recovering something important that was lost or stolen from Lark’s family.

Benidix seemed to take the blame for it—saying something about his family’s duty to protect Lark’s.

They were candidates in the Summit too, and one of the items was the prize for that season: the moon stone.

I think they called it the Marfik stone or something like that. Does that sound familiar to you?”

Ramona scratches her chin. “Not really. But it must be important if it was the prize for the Summit, considering the prize for our Summit is the Helios Blessing stone that can make an impenetrable shield. Why do you think you’re seeing their memories?”

I have asked myself that same question many times.

Especially considering that I’m not even intentionally trying to pull those memories from the stars.

They just came to me openly. “I don’t know.

But I think we should try to find out why the Marfik stone is so important.

Something tells me that it’s significant, but I cannot tell why. ”

We chat easily as we make our way to Anita’s, the familiar warmth of the tavern already spilling out onto the street.

Outside, cedar barrels stand turned upside down, serving as makeshift tables.

Most are crowded with cadets, their voices loud with laughter as they savor steaming mugs and clink glasses filled with whatever cheap libation gets them through training.

The scent of roasted meat and spiced cider hits me the moment we step inside, thick and comforting.

Ramona leads me through the low-lit space, where smoke from the hearth curls lazily toward the rafters.

The wooden floor is scuffed from years of boots and restless pacing, and mismatched chairs creak under the weight of tired bodies.

Sun’cher created orbs flicker above every table, casting everyone in a warm glow.

Every corner of the tavern is worn in the best way. The walls are cluttered with faded sketches, old military insignias, and hand-carved initials etched deep into the wood. Somewhere near the back, Anita herself shouts good-naturedly at a pair of cadets trying to sneak out without paying.

Ramona guides me to our usual spot—a corner table with a deep L-shaped bench that wraps like a half-hug around Leaf, Castor, and Vega, already mid-conversation. The bench sags just enough to be comfortable.

“Akemi! Ramona!” Leaf waves us over and pushes Vega inward toward Castor, making room for us next to him. “Join us.”

Ramona sits next to Leaf, and I tuck in on the end.

Castor signals for the waitress to bring over two more ales, flipping her a few coins.

We lock eyes for a moment across the table.

I nod in thanks before Vega leans forward to cut me off from his view and starts chatting with Castor.

I sigh and return my attention to Ramona and Leaf, somehow already mid-debate.

“No it’s crimson!” Ramona yells, pointing to her neck.

“I was just trying to compliment your new scarf. So what if I called it red?”

“But red is so obviously a different color, much brighter and louder. This is crimson. Soft, subdued, yet bold and sophisticated.”

I chuckle, bouncing my head back and forth between the two and take a sip of ale the waitress just dropped off at the table. Notes of butternut and wheat. Delicious.

“Honestly Ramona, I think you can see more colors than I can, because all I see is red—”

“ — red. So much red. I almost fainted when I saw your face after the third task,” Bennidix says, leaning against the bar top of Anita’s. “You half scared me to death with all that blood!”

I realize in an instant that I’m in another memory. I can feel my hands curled around my drink, and yet I’m standing next to the bar. Besides the slightly more polished cedar and torches for light instead of the orbs that float today, Anita’s is basically the exact same.

“It’s just a tooth.” The taller, dark-haired boy smirks.

“A tooth! A tooth is a big deal for a Teller, Lark.”

“Well good thing I’m not the Teller then.”

Bennidix stretches in his seat before chugging the ale. “You’re right, I need all my teeth intact if I’m going to go out there and Tell. Need all my teeth in order to whistle…”

“Priorities,” Lark agrees.

“What are you going to do? Now that you won the Summit?” Bennidix asks.

Lark twirls a small, iridescent stone in his hand. “I know where my path is headed.”

The mood turns distinctively sour. Bennidix’s shoulders straighten, pain evident on his face. He pushes his mug aside and reaches out his hand. “I will go with you.”

“No!” Lark shakes his head. “I do not want to endanger you. I only have the Marfik stone now.” He taps his pocket where he placed the stone. “The other two might take a lifetime to find.”

“Who are you kidding Lark, you will want company. I can help. Please. Let me join you. The fate of the world cannot rest on your shoulders alone. Let me bear some of the load.”

Lark takes a slow sip of ale then grabs onto Bennidix’s outstretched hand. “Fine. You helped me with the moon stone, but the sun and star stones are going to be more challenging to get.” He lowers his voice to a whisper. “We swear the blood oath tonight then.”

Bennidix’s eyes widen in surprise at the ancient binding oath that binds not only the two making the deal but their descendants as well until the oath is fulfilled.

“Tonight,” Bennedix says, then taps the mug on the table, gesturing for the waitress. “I’ll take another — ”

“—another beer please!” Leaf taps his mug on the table while smiling widely. Surely charming his way into the free refills he frequently boasts about.

I snap back into the current time. I’m at Anita’s, not a floating bystander to two Watchers sometime in the past, but back in my own body as if that entire memory passed in a matter of seconds.

Normally, I can control the queasy feeling in my stomach after using my abilities, but that’s when I consciously channel. This time I was abruptly taken into another memory. I set my mug down. The room spins.

“Akemi? Are you okay?” Ramona wraps her arm around me. “I knew you were a lightweight, but didn’t realize it was this bad.”

I shake my head. “I’m fine.” I stand. I need to get out of here before I faint or throw up or both. “I just need a little fresh air.”

I make my way through the crowded tavern.

With each light brush of a shoulder or hand, a wave of visions flashes through my head in such fast succession, I barely make it to the railing of the small outdoor porch before the dizziness sets in.

It’s as if the lid that is normally tightly closed on my Starwatcher abilities is completely off, allowing all of the memories to pour in.

It’s too much.

The uneven wooden porch railing scratches my palms as I squeeze tightly.

Breathe, breathe.

I feel like my entire body is rising upward into the dark expanse above as memories crash into my brain at a rapid pace.

Panic rises in my core. I am losing control.

Instead of a steady water drip, an entire dam of memories break through.

My body begins to tremble under the pressure, and my temples throb violently.

Give yourself ten seconds. If you cannot ground yourself, touch here . Atlys said during one of our sessions. I brush the invisible tattoo on my wrist, anchoring me to the Core, just as the memories start flooding in again.

Ten. I squeeze the railing. Wooden slivers pierce through the thick of my calloused palms. Death is all around me, permeating all my senses. Unfamiliar horns blare.

Nine. I force oxygen in through my nose. Visions of red, smoke, and ash flash across the inside of my closed eyes. People scream and run in all directions. Total chaos to match my racing heartbeat.

Eight. Terror courses through my veins as I hear deafening sounds. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

Seven. I exhale. I can feel the earth cracking and shaking beneath my feet.

Six. I inhale through my nose as slowly as I can manage. The world returns to a sepia tone, from reds to muted browns and oranges. As if in a perpetual state of sunset and haze.

Five. I let my ribs slowly contract, and I blow air back out through my pursed lips. The sirens fade. Screams dissipate to yelling, yelling to a million whispers rushing through my mind.

Four. My breath continues to contract, slowly, until I feel my pulse slow down to match. The memories slow from a flash to a pulse.

Three. I breathe in through my nose, taking my time to steady myself. The haze clears, and the sepia turns to a comforting blackness. Clean, and soothing. Pulsing visions fade and fall into the darkness closing in.

Two. My mind is still. The shadow of familiar hands wrap comfortably around my wrist, and I feel grounded once more.

One. I open my eyes and let out one final breath. My hands tremble and sting with pain from gripping the railing so tightly. Yet I do not care because of what I think I just saw in those memories…

…The breaking of the world.